


your slightest look (easily will unclose me)

by blackkat



Series: Jon Antilles prompts [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scars, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 04:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26467162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “Sir,please,” Kix says, the closest Cody has ever heard him to tears of frustration. It’s enough to make him stop dead, because Kix never sounds like that. “I just need to stitch you up, that’s all.”
Relationships: Jon Antilles/CC-2224 | Cody
Series: Jon Antilles prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941646
Comments: 30
Kudos: 684





	your slightest look (easily will unclose me)

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Jon has the opposite of General Kenobi's issue. He doesn't lose his cloak, ever, but he refuses to take it off in front of others. Ever. Even in fights where it would make SENSE to disrobe and move more freely. Even when he really should get a medical check. Cue Cody, master of Jedi-handling.

“Sir, _please_ ,” Kix says, the closest Cody has ever heard him to tears of frustration. It’s enough to make him stop dead, because Kix _never_ sounds like that. “I just need to stitch you up, that’s all.”

“I'm fine.” That low, rough voice is the 501st’s new general, and Cody raises a brow, because the man seemed sensible enough while they were making battle plans, if kind of quiet and reserved. “I’ll heal it when the last squads get back.”

Frowning, Cody glances down at his comm, checking the time. It’s late; if some of the squads are still out, they’ll likely find a place to hunker down for the night and not come back until morning, given the dangers of this planet at night. That’s a definite dodge, rather than an actual promise.

From the sound of it, Kix isn't fooled either. “Sir, please, it won't take long, I have the dermal mender right here—”

“There are troopers who need the attention more. Please see to them, Private,” General Antilles says quietly, and a moment later near-silent footsteps round the edge of the command tend. Antilles is still wrapped in the cloak he was wearing the other day, hood pulled up to shadow his face, only a flash of dark brown tunics showing from underneath. He passes Cody with a polite nod, then ducks into the command tent half a moment before Kix appears, looking like he doesn’t know whether to beg or throw something.

Cody looks from the tent to Kix and blows out a breath. “Problems, Kix?” he asks.

Kix grimaces. “General Antilles got hit in the back by one of the assassin droids, while he was defending the captain and the commander,” he says unhappily. “I _know_ it’s bleeding. But he won't let me look at it, and I can't pull rank on a _Jedi_.”

If Kix is debating pulling rank, he’s really desperate. Cody sighs, pulling his bucket off, and says, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

Kix doesn’t make any more to follow when Cody slips into the tent, just stays lurking outside, which is probably better for everyone’s blood pressure. But it leaves Cody alone in the large tent with a tall, shadowy figure slumped against the edge of the holomap.

The general doesn’t look like he’s doing well. Cody can hear the wet rasp of his breath, can see the way he has one hand pressed to his side, with something wet and dark seeping from between his gloved fingers. The cloak hasn’t moved, though, and Antilles hasn’t so much as eased the hood back a little. He’s just standing there, unmoving, clearly hurt, and Cody can't help the way something in his chest twists.

Antilles saved Rex. He put himself in between Rex and a karking _assassin_ droid to keep one clone trooper safe, and Cody would owe him just for that. Not even accounting for how the general managed to take out the Sep cannons and turn the tide of the battle before more lives could be lost.

“Sir,” Cody says, and takes a step forward.

Instantly, Antilles pulls himself up straight and spins, as if he’s been caught doing something wrong. His hand drops away from his side, pulled up into his sleeve to hide the blood on it, and he steadies himself with what looks like the ease of practice and says, “Commander Cody. Forgive me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Blood loss will do that to you,” Cody says mildly, and when Antilles freezes, Cody tips his head. “Kix just wants to help, sir. if you let him check you over, it will be better for his stress levels.”

Emotional blackmail, especially where the wellbeing of troopers is concerned, tends to work like a charm on Jedi, and this is no exception. Cody sees the words hit, hears their impact in Antilles’s indrawn breath, but he still doesn’t move. Just hesitates there, fingers curled tight in the edge of his cloak, and doesn’t answer.

Cody looks from the fingers fisted in dark cloth, up to Antilles’s face. He’s been in charge of the 501st for all of a week, now that Skywalker is out of the Order, and the 501st and the 212th have been together that whole time. And in that stretch, Cody's never seen him take his cloak off even once. It’s the diametric opposite of Obi-Wan and his tendency to shed cloaks like old feathers, and Cody had seen it, spared a moment to consider pointing it out to Obi-Wan, and then moved on and not thought twice about it. But—

“General,” he says, and takes another step forward, until he’s within arm’s length. When he reaches out to touch the edge of Antilles’s cloak, Antilles doesn’t step back, but he catches Cody's wrist, his gloves leaving smears of blood across Cody's armor.

“Take your cloak off, General Antilles,” Cody says, more gentle than he had intended to be. “Let us help you.”

For a long, long moment, Antilles says nothing. Then, slowly, his grip on Cody’s wrist loosens, and he drops his hand, ducking his head. There's no other movement, no attempt to remove his cloak, but when Cody reaches up, slow and deliberate, Antilles doesn’t resist. Cody has seen how the clasp on Jedi robes works enough times to be able to undo it blind, and unhooks it, then brushes Antilles’s hood back and lets the cloak slide right off his shoulders.

His first sight of Torrent’s new general isn't anything like he expected.

He’s Human, tall, broad-shouldered. Cody could tell all of that without seeing his face, but—the long hair is a surprise, obvious where it’s pulled up in a loose knot. Black hair, brown skin, and when he glances up his eyes are ghostly pale, eerily colorless. Cody pauses, caught by them, by the scars that frame them. lots of scars, more than he’s ever seen another Jedi sporting, and they continue down over his throat, his shoulders, disappear beneath his robes. Old, most of them, and some look like they were deep wounds once, but—

He survived them all. That’s a hell of an accomplishment.

“There,” Cody says, quiet. “Not so bad, sir.”

One corner of Antilles’s mouth curves, rueful, almost grim. “I don’t…take my cloak off,” he says. “And I can heal myself.”

“But you haven’t,” Cody observes, and Antilles hesitates.

“There’s…shrapnel,” he manages after a moment. “In it.”

Kix is going to murder him, Cody thinks, and takes a breath. “I can get it out,” he offers, and Antilles nods, reaching for his cloak again.

Before he can grab it, Cody catches his hand. “Leave it,” he says. “There's no one else in here.”

Antilles snorts softly. “No one but you,” he points out.

Cody raises a brow at him. “Sir, I enjoy looking at you. If that’s going to make you uncomfortable, I can get Kix, but please let me at least check your side first.”

There's a moment of startled silence, and Antilles swallows. “But,” he says carefully. “The scars.”

Cody hums, light, and steps in. The pattern etched into Jon's skin is clear, and he can't resist the urge to lift a hand, trace a knuckle across one of the deeper scars that cuts across his cheek. “Yes,” he says. “The scars. They're beautiful.”

Antilles flinches, like Cody just took a swing at him, and ducks his head. He doesn’t say anything, and Cody pauses, watching him.

That’s…not a usual Jedi reaction. But then, he’s heard rumors that Jon Antilles isn't exactly a normal Jedi, either. Obi-Wan mentioned something about no one knowing his real name, and Antilles never being to the Coruscant Temple before. There's a story there, and Cody's guessing at least part of it left its mark in Antilles’s skin.

“Jon,” Cody says, and he shouldn’t be so informal with a general, but something about Jon feels…unsteady. In a fight he’s perfectly composed, all but unstoppable, but outside of it—

Well. Cody maybe wants to take him away to somewhere quiet and wrap him in something soft.

But Jon raises his head at the use of his name, looks up and meets Cody's eyes, and Cody cups the back of his head in a deliberate motion. Pulls him in, tapping their foreheads together, and tries not to think about how close Jon's mouth is. He wasn’t lying about enjoying looking.

“Sit down,” he says, low, pitched to something like seductive. “Let me look at your wound. And then we can go back to my tent and you can sleep somewhere quiet.”

Jon shivers, closing his eyes. But he nods, like he’s helpless to resist, and Cody guides him down into one of the chairs, not even trying to let go.


End file.
